Posts tagged ‘Depression’

May 5, 2011

Forgetting You

by bye2mrwrong

Why am I still so emotional? Oh yeah, first signatures – signed! Will it ever go away all this hurt and pain? I was fine yesterday, but once night-time came I was filled with extreme sadness. I woke up this morning gloomy and depressed. He still controls my every thought. He is still prancing around in the catacombs of my mind. Why didn’t he love me? Why wasn’t I enough? And why did he choose to flight rather than fight?

 Today I saw him and I felt the need to attack. I needed to hurt. I needed to blame. I became even more cynical than I usually am. I intended to sting. And I did. Words are immensely powerful. One cruel remark can wound someone for life. I know that from experience. Cause when we argue we know exactly which words will sting the sharpest, cut the deepest, scar the nastiest, and last the longest.

 It’s been a year and I still can’t let it go. And he, he still can’t take responsibility for what he’s done. He claims that it’s not the affair that caused us to split. It’s my behavior afterward. But what kind of behavior did he expect? Did he want me to just smile and be happy about it? Did he want me to say it’s OK; let’s just forget it and move on?!

 Innocently he asks: What have I ever done to you? Why do you have to be so spiteful so vindictive? Why can’t we just stay friends? I know most of the arguments we had this past year were because of me. I’m not pretending otherwise. And I’m sorry for that. I truly am. Maybe I could have been calmer. Maybe I could have tried harder. Maybe I could have been the bigger person. Maybe that would have changed the way things turned out. But what I couldn’t do was just sweep it under the rug.

He still doesn’t get it. He still doesn’t realize the scope of the damage he’s done. He doesn’t understand the pain. He has left me empty-handed to start all over again from scratch. Does he have remorse? Will he ever? Will he miss me once I’m gone?  When I ask him: Do you feel like you’ve won; he takes the words out of my mouth and my mind and replies “I haven’t won, I’ve lost. We both have. I’ve lost my best friend”.

I retort sarcastically saying: I thought she is still in the picture. But I know what he means. And I feel the same. I lost my partner, my companion,my husband and my best friend.  A friend I had for 10 years. In order to gain an equivalent friend 10 years will have to pass by. I’ll be 40 by then. To me that feels like a life time. I hope I forget him by then.

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April 1, 2011

Fairytales

by bye2mrwrong

“Writers are desperate people and when they stop being desperate they stop being writers.” Charles Bukowski

For a brief moment I stopped writing. I was away on a holiday, a vacation, a fairytale. I was in love. Swept away by a prince to a far away land. Hoping that maybe this was the last frog this princess will have to kiss.

But coming back to reality, to this life, I feel out of balance as if I am about to fall and I know the crash will be hard. Everything I built, every ounce of strength I gained, every hope and dream I had has crashed down on me; and I feel myself falling back into the old patterns of depression and desperation which took control of me only a few months ago.

This house, these walls, this bed will not let me rest in peace. As soon as the darkness falls with it so does my mood and I find myself succumbing to my fears, crumbling to tears, fading away in the shadows. I sleep and wish to never be awoken. It is a safe world in my dreams. It is only there that I can escape from the harshness of reality. But before I close my eyes and let all thoughts vanish, the darkness creeps in. And from the darkness the devil comes out to tease and taunt me. To play with my feelings and stress my loneliness. The darkness shows me who I really am, the same weak and pathetic little girl I have been fighting so hard to ignore as I stare at her every day in the mirror.

I am left in the dark of night to ponder about my life that was, and of the life I wish to be in. I am left in the silence defenseless and alone to talk only to the voices in my head. The ones that criticize me for my failures. The ones that tell me that I am worthless until someone realizes the gem I am. I am left with my desperate thoughts and my gloomy memories. I am left with uncertainty and pain. I am left alone.

Yet still from within despair, I am not yet completely discouraged, for I have precious illusions in my head. And the hope that somewhere out there is a frog waiting to be kissed, waiting to turn into my knight in shining armor so he can come and rescue me.

January 13, 2011

Wasted Time

by bye2mrwrong

In our lives there are many moments when we wait. As kids we wait to go to big school, we wait to get a bike without training wheels; we wait for our turn on the computer, or in line for a roller coaster ride. We wait impatiently to be chosen for a team in sports class and hope we won’t get picked last, we wait for our exam results and pray to God we passed. We wait for our dinner to be ready as our stomach makes growling sounds, and most of all we wait to grow up.

As teens we wait for our life to begin, we wait for people to treat us like the adults we believe we are. We wait to get our driver’s license, we wait for a phone call from that special someone we have a crush on, and above all we wait to be at a legal drinking age so that the real fun can start.

And as adults we keep on waiting. We wait for a reaction to that resume we sent in last week, or for a work meeting to start. We wait for a friend to show up and get a bit annoyed when they are late yet again, and we wait to meet our soul mate. We wait, we hope, we dream, and we look back at what we left behind.

But is our time so invaluable, so un-precious, that we should spend it waiting? What if it’s all just wasted time? What are we really waiting for? Shouldn’t we learn from the past and look to the future, seize the day, and make things happen instead of waiting for faith, or destiny to strike?!

For the past year my life has been a waiting game. While everyone’s life around me continues; friends are getting promotions, changing jobs, getting engaged, having babies, and meeting new loves; my life has been on hold, worse, it has come to a complete stop.

I’m so sick of it, so tired of waiting. I see the lines underneath my eyes (is that tiredness or depression?), the wrinkles in my face; and the white hairs starting to show. And I hear that biological clock tick away as it realizes that it is now further than ever from what just yesterday seemed so close by. I’m tired of fighting with my own demons, tired of crying, tired of feeling sorry for myself. I’m tired of being angry at everyone around me and tired of worrying that it’s all been wasted time.

And that’s exactly what I feel; it’s what I’m afraid of. My life wasted away even more as I wait for something no longer under my control. Waiting for the divorce to go through, for signatures to be signed, and inventory to be appraised. Waiting for a reaction from my lawyer, or a reaction from his. Waiting for the tears to stop falling, and the pain to go away. Waiting for karma to show its true face and for the universe to balance out. Waiting for my good deeds to be rewarded, and for his bad deeds to be punished. I am waiting until I can stop my mind from wondering what I left behind, and from worrying ’bout this wasted time.

“Well baby, there you stand, With your little head down in your hand. Oh my god, you can’t believe it’s happening again. Your baby’s gone and you’re all alone, and it looks like the end. You’re back out on the street. And you’re trying to remember. How will you start it over? You don’t know if you can. You don’t care much for a stranger’s touch, but you can’t hold your man. You never thought you’d be alone this far down the line.  And I know what’s been on your mind. You’re afraid it’s all been wasted time. The autumn leaves have got you thinking. About the first time that you fell. You didn’t love the boy too much. You just loved the boy to well. So you live from day-to-day. And you dream about tomorrow. And the hours go by like minutes, and the shadows come to stay. So you take a little something to make them go away. And I could have done so many things, baby. If I could only stop my mind. From wondering what I left behind. And from worrying ’bout this wasted time. Another love has come and gone. And the years keep rushing on. I remember what you told me before you went out on your own: ’Sometimes to keep it together, we got to leave it alone’. So you can get on with your search, baby. And I can get on with mine. And maybe someday we will find,That it wasn’t really wasted time.” The Eagles

December 11, 2010

The Emotional Rollercoaster of Divorce

by bye2mrwrong

If you’re going through a break-up or a divorce, and if you’re anything like me, you must have devoured all the articles, psychological digests, and relationship blogs there are on the topic.  And by now you’ve heard consistently that when you break up you go through pretty much 5 stages of emotions: Denial, Pain, Anger & Resentment, Depression, and Acceptance.

So having read about it for the zillionth time, I had half expected everything to go smoothly and precisely as all the articles explain. I wish I could say it was that simple for me. That the stages went exactly in that order without any hindrances or backlashes. That I could see the progression as I moved from one step to the next. But to be honest it wasn’t. Come to think of it, those articles never give a time constraint on these emotions, do they? So yes I went through those stages. But I went through them time and again, back and forth, repeatedly. Reliving the emotions I thought I had already passed over and over again.

I guess you could say that I was already in DENIAL long before I found out about my husband’s infidelity. In retrospect I can see now that I had been keeping my eyes wide shut, denying the truth for a long time. Spineless and afraid of what would happen if I confronted it, what I might lose. The signs were there, I just didn’t want to believe them.

Then when I finally did find out the PAIN was immense and it consumed me. Not only was it an emotional pain but it was physical as well. I was sick from disgust, I wanted to throw up, I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep.  I screamed, I yelled, I cried.

But unlike what you read about wanting time alone – for me it was exactly the opposite. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted my husband to show me that he wanted to be with me. I wanted affection and love. Sure he had just given his love to another, but I wanted him now to give it to me. Now more than ever I wanted him to become what he never was before – affectionate.

And though you expect at this point to draw your lines, get angry, and say NO MORE, DENIAL crept in again when my husband first mentioned the D word. All I could think was “this isn’t happening to me”. I was not going to get divorced. Not for the life of me. Divorce was just not an option. I was going to fix this marriage, if it killed me. My husband would never really leave me. After 10 years together he would surely choose me over her.

But as the weeks passed by and there were no signs of repair, PAIN was slowly sinking in again. My husband was not coming to his senses, as I had irrefutably expected. I couldn’t believe that this was really happening. That after 10 years together, we couldn’t find a way to make it work. We couldn’t reach a compromise.  This time the pain was different. It stemmed from bereavement for the love I had lost, embarrassment for what had happened, shame that I couldn’t keep my marriage going, and hurt that I had been deceived. I felt like a failure. I was not a good enough wife, lover, or friend.

This time however, my pain was mixed with feelings of ANGER & RESENTMENT. At this point I was still not blaming my husband. It was not his fault. He was also a victim of this temptress. He had fallen into her spider web, through no fault of his own. I was mad at her, the girl who had stolen my husband away from me. And I was going to make her pay for it. Irrational thinking and violent ideas consumed me. I would wreck her car, scratch it, puncture the tires, or even loosen the wiring. I would tell the world who she was, and what she was capable of. I would make her ashamed to walk into work, to go to church, or even to look in her father’s eyes. I had many violent dreams and even hallucinations of choking her, of hitting her. Thoughts of seeing her and what I would do or say had become an obsession.

As time passed by I became bitter. I had been keeping this dark secret inside me for so long with no friends to share it with, no outlet to relieve the pain. I had become quiet and recluse. I had stopped calling my family, stopped meeting with my friends, afraid that I If did, I would let it all out.  The only people who knew now were my psychologist (who at the time I didn’t feel was helping as he was playing devils advocate) and my husband’s parents (who took a distant neutral stand, so as not to get their hands dirty).

Out of desperation, I began trying to negotiate anything and everything to try to save the relationship. I began compromising my true feelings. I asked him what I could do to change. What was he missing from ME in our relationship? I did everything in my power to please him. I took him out to dinners; I booked us a weekend get-away. I agreed that SHE could stay working with my husband, if he promised not to speak to her. We both knew this was not possible. I was being subservient and slowly I was loosing me.

But everyone has a red line that cannot be crossed, a point of no return, something that just jolts you out of your dream, and wakes you up. The affair had been my line, my border. We were standing right on it, wobbling from side to side. But I was trying so very hard to shut it up, to ignore it. Until he went too far, told another lie (bought the slutty red car) and pushed me over the edge.

At this point, I let everything out. And with that came relief; relief that no one was angry at me, or disappointed with me, or saw me as a failure. But with relief came the realization that the breakup was really happening and I was no longer in control. Had I ever been in control?

DEPRESSION brought with it more pain and sadness, more tears and feelings of loneliness and regret; regret for the things I haven’t done, or maybe did wrong. Questions like “Did I do everything I could?” “Is this my fault?” “Was I not good enough?” crossed my mind.

After depression came more anger, more resentment. My blaming finger was pointed at everyone. His dad for not talking some sense into him, his mom for having already taken my pictures off her wall, his brother for dating the slut (that’s another story in itself) and thus making sure that she was now an inseparable part of this family, and his friends for supporting him through HIS difficult time. I was angry at everyone and anyone that was even slightly on his side. But most of all my anger was directed at my husband. He had made the choice of having the affair, and he made the choice that he wouldn’t stop talking to his mistress, and he made the choice of continuing to lie to me. There was no excuse. Yes, she wasn’t a saint and had her share in the blame, but temptations are part of life, they always have been; and he should have just said no.

So where am I now? I’ve finally reached ACCEPTANCE. But even that has gradual stages, setbacks and at times allows pain and depression to creep in. It started with first accepting that his friends and family are HIS friends and family, and that they are there to support him, no matter what he did. Then came a higher level of acceptance. Accepting that maybe this is for the best; that maybe this affair happened so that I would open my eyes to the kind of life I was living. Finally see how I was really being treated. And now there’s the last level of acceptance. The one where I realize I deserve better, the one where I’m really moving on, going out, socializing and secretly excited for what lies ahead.